Grimmosapien Mating Season
by BaconCoffee
Summary: Monroe enjoys a little competition with Nick as the loot. Lots of chatting, some explicit sex after part 1. Nick and Monroe slash. Sequel to Burkhardt Sandwich.
1. Chapter 1

Grimmosapien Mating Season

Beta: ever_obsessed (LJ)

Characters + Pairing: Nick/Monroe, mentions of Nick/Juliette.

Rating: NC-17 (collectively)

* * *

><p>A long day of work had Nick strung out. He was <em>not<em> in the mood to head home quite yet. Still at the station, he sat in his car, knowing his betrothed would have been waiting for him, likely about to throw down a couple of steaks. Juliette's avoidance, her inability to address Nick's ability of being a lightning rod of all things strange and violent, was crippling. She'd been mentioning that she should be prepared with some kind of weapon. Nick wasn't opposed, though it made him a little nervous, but every conversation turning to it... It made it hard to talk about anything.

Nick would not be able to look at her that night. It was a particularly rough day that struck close to his heart. The body of a missing woman was found. Her husband confessed. He admitted he thought she was cheating, snapped, and strangled her, dumping her body near a hiking trail. Later, he'd found her private journal, where she spoke about sonograms and when she should tell him about the pregnancy. That man wept for hours. The dismay and mourn adhered to Nick.

The detective punched a few keys on his phone, reaching a cheerful watch-maker.

"Hey Monroe. You busy?" He tailed his quarry's denial, stating, "Well, I'll be right over. Wear pants."

The Grimm ran his hand across his tipped bangs, smiling confidently. After starting his station wagon, he found it hard to resist breaking the speed limit. Having darted across town to his closest ally, Nick zipped his way up the steps, nearly tripping. His hand barely had time to curl before the door was already open. The Blutbad, pulling off an oven mitt and apron, escorted his junior inside. A pat on the shoulder later, Nick marched inside, sitting at a table lit with fine tapered candles and half full champagne glasses. Plates with hot stuffed eggplant and a tray of meatless lasagna sat steaming on the table.

After a brief explanation of the two dishes, mostly how they were found in a magazine, Monroe poked Nick's plate with a fork. "What's new, man," he inquired.

"Had a rough case today." Nick looked down at his plate. After swallowing a good chunk of aubergine, he mumbled, "I proposed to Juliette, too."

"When?" Monroe slowly placed his fork on the table. "I mean, that's great, but when?"

"You remember the night I came over and babbled about those coins?"

Nervously, the watch-mender spoke, "Dude, that was weeks ago. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I thought you'd... I don't know. I'm not completely happy." The detective's head rose, his eyes meeting the other man's.

Monroe stared for a minute, processing what he just heard. "How are you not happy? I'd be the happiest guy **ever** in your position."

"Well, it's not that simple." The Grimm continued, "I have a hypothetical situation. It involves a friend, and he needs some advice."

Hesitant, Monroe managed to choke out, "O... kay?"

"This friend. He's married, and I think he loves his wife, but he's also kind of..."

Monroe urged him on, nodding.

"Sort of in love with his best friend."

Monroe stared vacantly at Nick. "And?"

"...And his best friend is a guy?"

Two whole seconds passed before Monroe shot up from the table. His fork flew through the air, landing on the floor. "The other day, you were serious! I thought you were just chatting me up!"

Nick loured, expecting the worst. "Yeah, I should have known to not-"

Triumph in his voice, Monroe interjected, "Use thinly veiled hypothetical situations to confess that you're definitely _not_ an average Grimm? Hoh, _man_, wow."

Monroe looked up, placing his hands on his hips. "You know, Nick, in retrospect, the tone you used when you asked me if I love Angelina... Way too personal." He squatted to pick up his fork, then briskly walked to the kitchen to retrieve a clean one.

"When did I do that?" Nick said, stabbing a piece of lasagna.

"Months ago. Two-ish, three-ish." Monroe snapped his eyes to Nick. Sitting again, he proudly stated, "So is this a competition? That's really... incredible. I've _never_ been in a spot like this before."

The whiskered man leaned in, grinning. "But you know what's great? I know what my competition looks like. She's good looking, kind of, but she's not _that _pretty. And does she _always _do that?"

"Do what," Nick puzzled.

"Look in two directions at the same time."

Nick interjected with a soft but cautionary, "_Hey._"

"Come on, man, she's like a chameleon. Not that I really possess winning looks, either."

Nick cut into Monroe's jovial words. "That's terrible." He paused a beat. "I think she's hot."

"Yeah, I can see that. In the right light, maybe."

The Grimm rolled his eyes. "Okay, new subject."

The pair quietly downed the last few morsels of the meal. Chewing his final bite of eggplant, the Blutbad beamed a grin. Nick delivered a mischievous smile right back. "So, Monroe... When exactly were you interested in me?"

The scruffy man took a moment to chew and ingest the last bite. "If I'm completely honest with you, I'm pretty sure it was that first time you slammed me against the wall. Remember?"

"First day we met? That early?"

Standing, Monroe began collecting plates and utensils from the table. "_Oh yeah_," he quivered, slipping into a lewd tone. Carrying the used tools to the sink, he took a moment to recollect himself. Returning for the empty lasagna tray, he connected with Nick's eyes. The detective's curled brow demanded details.

"You know how Blutbaden are known for _eating people_? Well, that's why no one ever stands up to me. No one ever tries to display dominance over us. It's just... Particularly stimulating to me."

"_Really?_ I had no idea."

"Yeah, that's obvious." After a pause, he resumed, "Oh! I just realized, maybe I'm not in love with you. Maybe I'm just Grimm-o-sexual. You know? And I know no other Grimms, so I can't test that theory."

Nick stewed, "Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea. Remember what we're known for."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Trust me, _I know_."

At the sink, the stubbly man began washing dishes. The next few minutes were comfortably silent, but for the roar of running water and scrubbing. Monroe, reaching for a hand towel, turned to face the jet-haired detective. "Okay, dishes are clean. So what now?"

"I was thinking maybe we could spend some time together," the Grimm delightedly spoke. He'd been approaching the Blutbad slowly.

Nick's phone buzzed in his pocket, shrieking. He looked at the photo. "It's Juliette."

After a few apologies, the phone was tucked back into its pocket.

"I forgot to call her. She's pretty worried, so I should get going."

Monroe pursed his lips, disappointedly asserted, "Sure, go ahead. I'll see you around-"

His weak gripe was interrupted by a quick peck on the lips.

Before he had time to react, Nick had already left. The watch-mender's spine idyllically tingled. He blurted out the one thing on his mind.

"Huh. _Wow_. This is some serious business now, innit."


	2. Chapter 2

Beta: Ever_Obsessed (LJ)

Characters + Pairing: Nick/Monroe, Juliette

Rating: NC-17

* * *

><p>Two days after sharing a meaningful evening with Monroe, Nick finished dinner with Juliette. After evading her inquiry of weapon ownership for the upteenth time, the detective agreed. In a few days, he would take her to purchase a gun and train her proper usage techniques. He had begun scrubbing the few dishes with ferocity, forgetting everything about the meal he only just ate. The onyx-haired man thought of excuses to slip out and visit his Blutbad.<p>

Moments later, he was hiding out in the bathroom, using a small screwdriver from an eyeglass repair kit he'd been given, prying at the back of a watch he never used. He popped it open, then tucked the battery into his jacket pocket. Carefully, he pressed the back into place. Emerging from the bathroom, he passed Juliette.

"Oh, you found your watch," she contently stated.

"Yeah, but I can't get it to work," Nick feigned, gesturing the watch to his copper-haired live-in. "I _think_ the battery's dead."

"Well, you never use it anyway."

"Yeah, but you never know. Special occasions. Maybe Hank will have a shotgun wedding and wearing watches will be part of the dress code."

The rusty locked woman smiled. "_Maybe._ You look uneasy. You're replacing the battery tonight?"

"If I put it aside, I'll forget about it. I might as well make sure there's no other problems."

Juliette agreed, nodding lightly for a moment. She followed her affirmation with doubt, expressing, "But I don't think there are any jewelers open right now, Nick. It's almost eleven."

The sleuth pretended to contemplate. "I know one guy that's obsessed with watches. He should be up. I'll give him a call."

Nick waited for Juliette to get into her pajamas. As she disrobed, the detective gave a quick call to Monroe, using it for show. Growing displeased, Juliette listened closely to her fiance's chat.

"I have a watch you might want to take a look at," he stated. He paused for a response. "I'm not really sure. It's a cheap watch I picked up on whim and I think the battery's dead." Another pause. "_You sure about that? _I'll be right over then."

He tucked his phone into his pocket. Turning to the now irritated auburn-headed vet, he swayed his head. "He says he might be able to fix it, but it's a cheaper watch, so it might give him some trouble."

"I guess I'll be asleep when you get back."

The moment she slipped under the sheets, he was out the door. Quietly locking the door, he raced across town to the watch artisan.

Monroe was waiting outside for him, his door ajar. He stood on the top step, arms crossed. As Nick exited his vehicle, the Blutbad turned and entered his residence, holding the door open for his attraction.

Holding out his hand, he inquired, "So, watch?"

"Yeah, here," Nick chirped, reaching into his back pocket. Placing the watch in Monroe's hand, he laughed. The door closed behind them.

"I had to come up with an excuse to see you this late."

Monroe voiced his suspicion. "So this _isn't_ really about the watch?"

"No. I just wanted to see you."

After a moment of confusion, a smile spread across Monroe's face. "Jesus, Nick, I keep trying to throw myself into some denial and you keep proving I'm not, _you know,_ insane."

The ink-haired Grimm slipped off his jacket. He folded it across the back of a dining room chair, taking his time. Monroe turned toward the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"No, no coffee. Just..." Nick smoothly hid the bulk of his nervousness.

Turning back to Nick, the watch sage furrowed his brow. Nick broke Monroe's personal space bubble with a kiss. The whiskered man's expression contorted to a mix between felicity and absolute confusion. Letting out a hum, Nick backed him into the nearest wall, knocking a small frame from its mount.

Monroe broke free from the lip lock. He bent down, picking up the frame to place it in a safe spot.

"Dude. I am _loving _the aggression, but let's try to keep things where they are on the walls." The Blutbad's declaration made Nick nearly laugh.

"Monroe, I've got to be honest. I have no idea what I'm doing with you here."

The scruffy man looked down at Nick's feet. "Yeah, well, I'm guessing you want some kind of sexy wild times."

"Not so much, no," Nick asserted.

"Nick. Buddy. You have an erection. So do I."

Nick looked down at himself, then across to Monroe, smiling like an imp. "_I hadn't noticed_."

Monroe scratched his nose. "How's about I try giving you a blow job?"

The Grimm choked, eyes wide. "_Wow_, that was straight forward."

"That's not a no." The unshaven man tapped Nick's arm. Motioning for him to follow, he headed to his bedroom.

Nick glanced around. Placing his phone on the nightstand, he realized it was abysmally crowded with nicknacks and only further reinforced the owner's clock obsession. Leaning against the beige sheeted bed, he began unbuckling his belt. Monroe hadn't had time to register that his partner was already pantless. He panicked for a moment, blurting out, "Whoa, wait. Let me get a condom first, alright?"

"I thought you didn't have any," Nick investigated.

"Yeah, I stocked up. Not for you, particularly, but you never know when you might need one."

Nick jokingly spoke, "So I take it you don't trust me?"

Ripping a segment from a pack of eight, the Blutbad answered honestly. "I do trust you, but both of us have had sex more than once and I'd like to avoid HPQ or whatever. I don't want to get cervical cancer."

The detective laughed lightly, "I don't think you have a cervix. Is there anything else I should know?"

Tearing the condom packet, Monroe flirted, "I'll admit: This is kind of weird for me. I'm not typically a meat eater."

After a short moment of roaring laughter, the clock authority began nuzzling Nick's abdomen. Running his nose along Nick's hip bone, he rumbled, "You planned all this out."

"What? Of course not."

Monroe reached his fingers into the band of Nick's crimson trunks. "_Oh please_. You know red's my favorite color."

"Alright, you caught me," the wessen hunter coyly spoke.

Slowly peeling down the carmine trunks, the Blutbad growled, "It's okay. I like it."

Nipping just below the Grimm's navel, he crooned, "I wonder what you taste like."

"Isn't taste and smell interlinked?" the detective jokingly mumbled, maintaining control of his composure as his mate dragged lips down his inner thigh.

Kneeling, Monroe gave one final tug to his quarry's trunks, pulling them just above the ankles. "But I mean a taste test. Think that would bother you, Nick?"

"Yeah, I think so. I definitely think it would," the sleek-haired man roused.

"Good, then you'll just have to try to stop me."

Nick endeavored to hold back a smile. Slowly, a grin crept across his face. "_Try,_" he mischievously inquired.

The wavy-maned brunet shook the condom in his right hand. Looking up as he rolled the condom onto his partner's erection, he caught sight of the vague nervousness in glacial eyes. "I know what I'm doing. _Kind of._ I looked it up."

The detective's breath became mildly shallow, pleading anxiously he sputtered, "They have books on this?"

Rubbing a hand across Nick's latexed length, he asserted, "No, nincompoop. On my computer."

The Grimm's head tilted back. He wondered aloud, "You have a computer?"

"Yeah, _of course I do_. I almost never use it, so it just kind of sits there. The most action it gets in a week is when a moth decides to die on it," Monroe chortled. He began lightly pumping Nick's hard-on.

Still looking up at the Grimm's face, catching slight views of weakly fluttering eyelids, the Blutbad let out a quiet growl. He turned his attention to the detective's firm cock, lowering his head.

His eyes widened. "Whoa, dude, I just realized! You shaved?"

Nick lowered his head, affirming, "Well, yeah. I figured it might be a little less weird for you."

The kinky-haired man eagerly spat, "Dude, this terrifies and arouses me. You have no idea. You put your testicles near a sharp blade for my sake. _That_ is dedicated."

Nick gave him a squint bearing the meaning, '_You're insane_.'

Monroe leaned down, running his lips across his mate's scrotum. He ran his tongue up the midway, gliding up the rigid dick tasting bitter latex. Fitting his mouth around the throbbing cock, he bobbed his head aggressively. With his right hand on Nick's hip, his left continued to pump the rest of his shaft. Hearing Nick's breathing hitch between delighted moans, Monroe hungrily drove his maw further downward, devouring the Grimm's durability. He wriggled his tongue, hooping around, caressing the erection.

The Grimm's moans grew into booming groans and hefty grunts. Monroe continued fervently fellating the sleuth. He felt a pit in his stomach—something was going to happen.

The detective's phone blared, shaking tauntingly on the nightstand. The watch repairman released Nick's erection. "Seriously, you have got to be kidding me!"

The investigator mightily answered, "Burkhardt." He shot quick responses in affirmation. Ending the brisk call, he faced the Blutbad. "Sorry Monroe. Murder calls."

"Dude, this happens every time. Can I just finish," Monroe dejectedly pleaded.

"I'd love that, but if I do come, I'll be a mess. I won't be able to drive to the crime scene for at least twenty minutes."

Forcefully, the watch mender fussed, "_I will drive you._"

"You sure abou—augh!"

Nick's inquiry was disrupted by Monroe abruptly engulfing his cock. The Blutbad held the detective's legs, digging his palms into the man's inner thighs, voraciously assailing his cock. Each sound emitted by the Grimm was met by the Blutbad's low hums. After two minutes of intensely wild sucking, Nick's grunts cut into a series of fleeting, rasping, begging wails. Monroe drew back, eying the detective's orgasmic quivers.

The onyx-haired detective crumbled, flopping to the bed.

The Blutbad rolled the used condom from Nick's softened cock, musing, "Don't pass out. I need the address I'll be driving you to."

"I won't pass out," Nick weakly denied, respiration returning to normal.

Monroe sighed, quetching, "Alright. Let's go."

The watch maker tugged at Nick's trunks and pants, clothing him. Passing the detective his belt, he headed to the kitchen for a small glass of water and to dispose the condom. As he returned, seeing his partner barely sitting upright, troubled by the belt, he placed the glass on the night stand to assist. Nick grabbed his phone lazily, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

Monroe concentrated, lifting the delicate Grimm from his bed. The Grimm complained, "I can walk. _I can walk!_" After a short struggle, he was able to carry the engaged man to the beetle.

A few minutes later, Nick stumbled out of his mate's car. His strength was still on its way back. Approached by Sergeant Wu, he chirped, "I got held up."

Wu nodded. Smirking, he pointed a pen toward the yellow beetle. "Who's that? Drinking buddy?"

An assured smile spread over Nick's face. "Something like that."

Monroe drove home, murmuring to himself. "That went well..."

Arriving home, as he crept into his residence, he realized, "Maybe attached human testicles are a more omnipotent aphrodisiac." He marched to his room to alleviate his own erection.


	3. Chapter 3

Beta: Ever_Obsessed (LJ)

Characters + Pairing: Nick/Monroe, Juliette, Hank, Rosalee

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers for Island of Dreams.

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><p>Juliette hailed Nick with inquiries. It started the first day Nick took her to target practice and hadn't stopped. At first they were benign questions about proper ways to store a handgun and ammo. Within two days, her queries began carrying an accusatory tone, though Nick knew it was likely all in his head.<p>

But her gaze would linger unlike before. Her eyes bore holes through him, even as she stayed cordial and open.

Nick had been feeling increasingly guilty over a month, intensifying daily from the night he proposed to Juliette. Doubt was also a dependably growing daily dealing for him, though in a way it wasn't true dubiety, but a dim wavering of conviction. The detective understood his situation was nothing but a mess, dangerous for everyone involved... These things lead to profoundly disturbing acts he knew quite well.

To tell Juliette that he'd chosen someone else to be his lover, to let her know that it was a guy, no less, was something he pondered over. Though Nick knew it would end fairly well—he wouldn't have been in a relationship with someone who would tip into insanity. But she did have a gun. Although it wasn't like she'd shoot him. Or pistol whip him. She just had deadly accuracy.

...

Aside of Hank's odd behavior, strangely hyperactive and distracted, the day at the precinct was relatively quiet. Around lunch, Nick swept his jacket through the air.

"Hank. I'm going out. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Hank barely looked up, but the bloodshot eyes the man had and the worrisome look pasted to his face etched into Nick's mind. He was taken aback, but this was something he set aside chalking it up to lack of sleep.

...

After arriving at Monroe's with a joyous welcome and a warming embrace, the twosome retreated to the living room in close proximity, bumping shoulders.

"Let me tell you, Nick. I'm glad you came. I've got some stuff to talk about," the Blutbad revealed.

Placidly, the detective responded, "That's what I came for."

"Great!" Monroe excitedly chirped. "Let's chat about Rosalee."

Studying the elated man, Nick dejectedly mumbled, "What about Rosalee?"

Monroe's legs started bouncing. "Man, she's great. Astounding. She's beautiful, smart, brave, and she smells _fantastic_."

"Yeah. Where are you going with this?"

Blabbering, the watch maker asserted, "She saved that one guy and she even saved me from a drugged up gun-toting lizard... _with a brick_ to the guy's head, dude. She's the real deal."

"So this is it," Nick calmly inquired, keeping at bay the feeling of his chest imploding to a chasm.

"What?" Monroe stared at his mate for a moment. "Nick, you think I'm breaking up with you? Do you _want_ me to get with Rosalee?"

"No... _No_," Nick intensely declared.

"Man, I'm talking about how I want to come clean and tell her about the two of us. I _guess_ I could see her as a mate, but I want to be her friend. Just her friend."

Nick smiled weakly. "I think I was expecting something dramatic."

"Yeah, I can tell. I'm not really that kind of guy. You know that," Monroe remarked. "I think she'll understand. Your girl, though? Not so sure." Monroe gently placed a hand on Nick's knee.

"What makes you say that," the sleek-haired man warily inquired.

The Blutbad's mouth dropped agape. "Dude, seriously? You're going to tell her that you're cheating on her, right? And are you planning on telling her about being a Grimm?"

"I'll have to think about that last bit."

Continuing their chat, the couple channeled to the kitchen for a quick lunch. After a brief hug, they left together, separating to duck into their respective vehicles. The detective took off for the station to resume his work. The beetle drove off another way, heading to the shop of an amiable vixen.

Monroe peeked through the front door pane, eying the attractive Fuchsbau. A hand in one pocket, he entered the store, greeting the sweater vest clad woman.

"No flowers today," Rosalee cheerfully asked.

Burying his free hand into his free vest pocket, he voiced. "No, not today. Just here for some confabulation."

Rosalee leaned against the counter. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

"Okay, um..." Trailing off, Monroe approached her, leaving minimal distance between the two wesen. "It's really about you, me... and Nick."

The brunette stared at him. After a moment of silence, she slowly presented, "What about us?"

Looking guilty, Monroe lowered his head a bit.

Rosalee tilted her head curiously.

"Well, for starters, you're perfect," Monroe bumbled.

"Yeah, I think so too. Thank you," Rosalee teased.

"But I'm kind of..." The Blutbad trailed off. Raising his head to her level, he strained his explanation. "With Nick. I can't really—"

"So you're gay."

Panicked, Monroe spat, "No, really, I'm _not_ gay. I just—I like women, but Nick is something else."

The Fuchsbau smiled wide. "Okay, so you're not. I know what you're saying and trust me, it's okay. I understand completely."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. He seems like a pretty nice guy and I already knew."

Monroe stood straight. "You knew?"

"Pheromones. Every time you're in the same room together," Rosalee remarked. "Even that night you guarded me at Freddy's. You called him and you must have been dreaming about him because the whole house stunk."

"_Huh_." Monroe mumbled, enlightened. "No kidding?"

Rosalee only half joked, "Yeah, even now—you thinking about that Grimm—you're getting your mating stench _all over my air_."

…

Conversing further, the two canid wesen agreed upon status as pack mates. Hours later, Nick arrived home. He greeted Juliette with a few cartons of takeout.

"How was your day," Juliette chimed.

"Long. Enlightening."

Midway through their meal, the detective worked up the courage to confront their relationship. "Juliette, I'm cheating on you."

The copper-haired woman nearly choked on a mouthful of noodles.

Her eyes wide, she stated, "You're a little late for April Fools Day."

Nick watched her worried visage. Minutes passed soundlessly. Juliette studied her fiance's features, probing for a smirk to gravitate her denial.

The admittance sunk in. Placing her fork down, she monotonously piped, "How long?"

"A month."

The auburn-haired woman's eyes broke contact and drifted to the center of the table. Her hands on her thighs, Juliette followed Nick's response, "With who?"

Nick hesitated. "...Monroe," he revealed.

Honestly forgetting, Juliette inquired, "Monroe? Have I met her?"

"Remember the night you got kidnapped?"

"Yeah, every detail," Juliette expressed.

"The guy that helped me get you out of there safely," Nick forced himself to explain.

"You mean a friend of his or his sister, _right Nick_," Juliette pleaded shakily.

Nick said nothing.

Juliette nodded. "This is... unexpected. But I forgive you, Nick. We can get couples counseling and work on this." Juliette's face had been growing redder each minute.

Nick slouched, articulating, "Juliette, I'm so sorry. I think... I can't work on this—us. There's nothing to work _on_. I _love_ you, but I found someone I love _more_."

"Then, what now," the veterinarian prodded.

"I discussed it with Monroe. I'll move in with him and... I'll still pay half of the mortgage."

"That's it?"

"This is entirely up to you. I'd like to continue being part of your life, but as your friend."

"Friends? Nick, I thought we'd be getting married in a year or two. This is just... so odd and I'm not really..."

Nick placed his hand upon Juliette's. "Take your time processing it. I'll be back tomorrow to start picking up my things."

The charcoal headed detective stood and proceeded to the entrance. As he turned the knob, his former fiancee spoke up.

"Nick? I don't hate you."

With a nod and a thin smile, he left Juliette sitting woefully before a half eaten carton of cold lo mein noodles.


End file.
